I Am The One
by O'rianthi
Summary: AU fic being written in response to a prompt over at kmeme. The prompt: "The Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall are the same person".  Marian Hawke will get to Kirkwall eventually - but first, she has to defeat the Blight.


**I Am The One**

_**1**__**st**__** day of Bloomingtide, 9:30**_

"The sun is out!" Bethany exclaimed cheerfully.

"Bethany, close the bloody curtains!" Marian muttered angrily, covering her face with a pillow.

"Oh come on, Sis, it's been raining for days! And it's Summerday finally, we should go out!" She climbed from her bed to Marian's and shook her sleepy sister insistently.

Marian's left eye opened.

"Is Mother up?"

"She's not home, I don't think. See, all the more reasons to go out. Please-please-please?"

Marian groaned, but threw the blanket and the pillow off and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Bethany squealed and hugged her.

"Why can I never say 'no' to you", the older girl complained, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Because I'm your little sister, and you love me", Bethany provided helpfully and reached for a hairbrush, as Marian turned around in the bed and shook the unruly mass of her hair. As per their usual morning procedure, Bethany started humming as she carefully untangled and guided the brush through the raven black locks.

"It is utterly unfair that you got Mother's silky smooth hair, whilst I inherited Father's wiry mess."

"You say it every day", Bethany giggled.

"And I will never stop", her sister promised grumpily. "Ouch, Beth!"

"Sorry, it wouldn't go unless I pulled".

"Well, pull gently! I mean, alright, I could deal if it was just you, but why Carver got the nice hair, and I didn't!" Marian continued.

"So there would be at least something Carver has that you're jealous of, and not the other way round?" Bethany suggested, and Marian snorted.

"He certainly is very proud of his hair. Did you notice how long he fidgeted with it before leaving for Ostagar?"

Bethany didn't laugh, and neither did she say anything for a while, instead just silently brushing her sister's hair. Marian didn't have to look to know she was chewing on her lower lip in concern.

"Beth, he'll be fine", Marian said, trying her best to sound as reassuring as possible. It was enough that Mother was growing more miserable from anxiety with each passing day; they should be optimistic, at least for her sake. "You'll see, he'll return with a stupid grin on his silly face, in a shining armour, with his huge sword on his shoulder, and he won't shut up about how he's now the King's soldier, and how many darkspawn he killed. At least Peaches will be impressed."

That worked, and Bethany laughed. She finished brushing Marian's hair and did it up in a plait. The girls got dressed and left the room they shared, entering the combined kitchen and dining room of their small but cosy house.

"I wonder where Mother went", Bethany said, glancing around.

Marian shrugged. "You know Mother, always busy."

"I guess it helps her keep her mind off Carver", her sister sighed.

"Want some breakfast?" Marian asked, opening the cupboard.

"You promised we'd go outside whilst it's still sunny!"

"Let's put something quick together and have a picnic, then!"

Bethany clapped her hands in delight, and the Hawke sisters got down to cooking. Marian was boiling some water, and Bethany peeling potatoes, when suddenly there was a loud, urgent knock on the door.

"Girls, it's Miriam!" they heard the voice of the village Elder from the other side.

Marian hurried to the door, a sense of dread starting to build up in her chest. As soon as she opened the door, the older woman rushed in, panting heavily.

"What's wrong?" Marian asked, placing her hands on Miriam's shoulders.

The Elder grabbed the girl's wrists. "Girls, you need to run, quick! Go to your hiding cave in the Wilds!"

Bethany jumped up, a knife and a potato still in her hands. "Templars?"

Miriam nodded. "There are new ones in the village. They're not on Circle business, though; they're with some knights, searching for a cure for the Redcliff Arl", she explained quickly, and then frowned. "But someone talked. I cannot imagine who could do that, after all your family's done for the people of this village … Perhaps it's someone new, the refugees, I don't know; but the templars now know there are apostates in Lothering. They are searching for you right now".

Bethany gasped. The knife fell down with a clink; the potato bounced off the table and dropped to the floor, rolling.

"Mother…" Marian started, but Miriam cut her short.

"She's at the market; I've sent Allison to search for her. We will tell that all the Hawke children left for Ostagar. You need to go, now", she urged them. "Don't forget to bring all your magical things with you, they will search every house!"

"Thank you, Miriam", Bethany whispered.

The older woman nodded, and then stepped closer, pulling the girls into a quick hug.

"Hurry", she said again.

Not even waiting till the door closed behind the Elder, the girls darted to their room. Marian opened up the secret storage below her bed, where they kept their staffs. Bethany's was thin and elegant, made from a birch; hers was thicker, carved from an oak, and with a nasty spiked metal ball at the end. There was also Father's redwood staff, with a crimson gem on top and a double blade on the other end. Father said it belonged to someone named Parthalan; however, he kept changing the story of who this Parthalan was. Once, he said he was their ancestor, who fought to unite Ferelden under King Calenhad. One other time, he told them Parthalan was a Tevinter Magister who put down a slave uprising in the Free Marches. Marian suspected he invented this Parthalan for the sake of telling a story.

She quickly wrapped the staffs up in her blanket, and found Bethany frantically throwing some clothes from the wardrobe on to the bed.

"We should get some food together", Marian said.

Bethany nodded and rushed back to the kitchen. Her older sister kneeled in front of the wide-open wardrobe and delved into the bundle of old clothes at the bottom. From there she pulled out the one book of spells Father salvaged on his escape from the Kirkwall Circle. She devoured it years ago, desperate for knowledge; Bethany was reluctant but learned from it, too. Marian threw the book on top of the clothes on the bed, then lifted the edges of the sheet around them and tied it up into a tight bundle.

Bethany came back from the kitchen with a basket of supplies. Marian tied the knot of the bundle to the staffs and nested them across her shoulder. They left the house through the back door and sprinted towards the Wilds. They were running for almost ten minutes when Bethany suddenly stopped, crying out her sister's name. Marian turned around, breathing heavily.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Bethany shook her head, her already big eyes huge from fear, her slender hands clutching the basket. "Oh Maker, I'm so sorry, Marian! I'm so stupid!"

"What?" Marian stepped towards her.

"My amulet! I forgot it in the house!"

Marian felt a cold shiver rush through her. The amulet that Father gave Bethany when her gift manifested, so many years ago. It was a simple medallion on a worn leather string, but a templar would be able to tell it was magical. If they find it in the house, it will be enough to arrest Mother.

"Mother will know to hide it", Marian said half-heartedly, knowing full well one of them will have to return.

"No", her younger sister shook her head again, "she won't. It's there with all the other jewellery, she won't notice. We can't risk it… I'll go back", Bethany resolved, wiping a single escaped tear from her cheek. "I…"

"No", Marian interjected firmly, dropping her load to the ground. "You run to the cave, I will go back." Bethany opened her mouth to protest, but her sister cut her short. "Don't even try to argue with me, Beth. I said go."

Bethany nodded, kneeling down and gathering up the bundle. "Please be careful, Sis."

"I will see you soon", Marian added, forcing a little smile, and dug back to the village.

She thanked her Father silently for building their house on the outskirts of Lothering. Of course, a situation like this was quite likely what he had in mind when he chose the location for their new home ten years ago. Marian sneaked in through the back door again and froze, trying to keep her ragged breath down. She listened for any sounds for a while, but it seemed there had been no one inside.

The girl, moving as quietly as she could, got to her and Bethany's bedside table and rummaged desperately in their jewellery box. Her sister's amulet was there, tangled up with a string of river pearls Carver got for Bethany, and a silver chain Marian bought from a travelling merchant last year. She grabbed them all together, not bothering with separating, and shoved them into her pocket.

There was a loud bang, and their front door burst open. Marian heard the jingling of metal and the clunk of heavy-booted steps and male voices. She darted to the back door, plunging into it with the whole of her body and stumbling outside into the sun. Behind her, she heard them crying, telling her to stop, calling her 'apostate'. Marian didn't look back, she just ran.

She staggered, and nearly fell, but managed to keep her balance and continued running. But the templars grew ever so closer. Marian twisted around to look back, never slowing down, and cried out, shocked at how quick they were catching up with her. Panicking, she threw a ball of liquid flame towards her pursuers, and it hit one of the templars square in the armoured chest, sending him flying.

Suddenly, all the air left her lungs, and the whole world plunged into darkness. Marian tripped and tumbled down the hill, her body exploding with pain. She heard the templars getting even closer. She got on her hands and knees, desperately telling herself to get up, to run, but her head was reeling. She reached for her magic, and found nothing, feeling completely drained.

The steps and the voices sounded so terrifyingly close now. Marian felt a gauntleted hand grab her shoulder, scratching and bruising. She was lifted to her feet, and someone held her so she wouldn't fall. Then she felt a prick of a sword's tip beneath her chin.

"Apostate, you are hereby under arrest for betraying the holy laws of the Chantry!"

"You don't say", Marian chuckled hoarsely, obstinately refusing to think about the sword at her throat, as she struggled to unglue her eyes.

"Careful! She cut herself!" someone exclaimed. "Maleficar!"

"Calm down", Marian finally heard a familiar voice. Ser Bryant. "She injured herself when she fell. If you haven't made your Holy Smite so strong, there wouldn't be any blood", he grumbled.

At last, Marian opened her eyes, and whilst her vision was still fuzzy, she managed to look around. She was surrounded by what felt at first like a dozen templars, and, when she stopped seeing double, turned out to be seven, including Ser Bryant and one other Lothering Chantry templar. The rest she was seeing for the first time. One of them was tending to the templar Marian hit. Her throat convulsed involuntarily, when she saw him writhing in pain, his chest plate scorched. Marian forced herself to look away. Behind the templars, somewhat at a distance and up the little hill, a crowd was gathering. Her eyes searched frenziedly, and when she didn't see her Mother's face, she let out the tiniest sigh of relief.

"This apostate is a resident of your village?" the templar who'd spoken first asked of Ser Bryant, his eyes never leaving Marian's face.

"Yes, this is Marian, daughter of Leandra and Malcolm Hawke."

"And how long have these Hawkes lived in Lothering exactly?"

Bryant shifted his weight from one foot to another. "About ten years".

The templar slowly turned his head to face Ser Bryant. "And you're telling me in all these years you failed to realise she was a mage?"

Marian met Bryant's eyes. Other templars came and went, reassigned to different places, but Bryant has been in Lothering from the day the Hawkes arrived. In her heart, Marian believed he had known for some time, but chose not to tell, perhaps out of sympathy or gratitude for Father's services to the villagers.

"There has never been any incident that would suggest she was", he answered calmly.

"And what of her family?"

"Their father is dead. Mother lives. There are two other children."

"Are they apostates as well?"

"No."

"How can you be so sure if you haven't known till this point that this one is?" the templar burst out, irritated.

"They have all broken the Chantry laws, anyway, by harbouring an apostate", one of the other templars said.

And, of course, just as he finished saying it, a desperate cry came from the crowd.

"Marian!"

Leandra Hawke ran down the hill, her light blue eyes wide open, and her usually neatly plaited silver hair dishevelled. The templars held her, not letting her get near Marian, as she struggled and cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Marian braced herself and then spat lavishly, aiming at her Mother's feet.

"You're happy now?" she barked, putting as much resentment in her voice as she could muster. She registered hurt and confusion in Mother's eyes, and guilt had her insides in knots. She continued, nevertheless: "You finally get to be rid of me. The failure. The mistake. The unwanted brat with the curse of magic!"

"Marian…" Leandra managed to mutter in between sobs.

_Come on, Mother, be smart, please__,_ Marian pleaded in her head.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Oh, wait, was it you who slipped the word to the templars, hm, you old hag?"

"Your Mother is a devoted servant of the Maker!" Ser Bryant's voice boomed. "Don't you dare talk to her like that!"

_Maker bless you, Ser Bryant._

"Now it will finally be just you with Bethany and Carver, the normal children, the favourites", Marian said, her voice wavering. She hoped it sounded like bitterness.

There, the mention of Beth and Carver did something to Mother. She had to remember she still had two other children to care for.

"I should never have listened to your Father!" she exclaimed, and then choked on her tears, dropping her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Marian saw Miriam break from the crowd and run down to Leandra. Templars released their grip on the woman and let the Elder hold her.

_Be strong, Mother, I beg you._

"Magic is a curse", the words escaped Leandra's lips, "it taints everything it touches! I wish I'd given you to the Circle, but I was so afraid, I never had the courage to stand up to you, none of us did…"

"Shh, dear", Miriam whispered, cradling Leandra in her arms.

"You are safe, Leandra", Ser Bryant reassured. "This apostate will be taken to the Circle. She will not threaten you any longer."

"We take children to the Circle", the templar who held the sword interrupted. "The grown-up apostates who have been on the run their whole lives are too corrupted. Their influence cannot be allowed in Kinloch Hold, nor anywhere else. This apostate has also attacked a templar. She is to be executed. Immediately".

"No!" Mother exclaimed, tossing her head and trying to break from Miriam's hold.

_I am not g__iving in without a fight,_ Marian thought grimly, her hand slowly moving towards Bethany's amulet in her pocket. It was enchanted to grant a second breath, a generous extra helping of mana to an exhausted ─ or drained ─ mage. _Thank you, Father._

"Wait!" someone intervened, his voice commanding and firm.

The templars turned towards the stranger. It was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark skin and black hair. He wore light, but clearly expensive armour, a sword and a dagger on his back, and sported an impressive beard. His stride was confident, everything about him strong and authoritative, but there was a spark in his dark eyes.

"This is Chantry business, stranger. Do not interrupt the work of the Maker's servants."

"I believe I supersede Chantry on this matter", the strange man proclaimed, his voice absolutely calm. "I am Duncan, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, and I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription on this woman".

Mother gasped loudly, her eyes flickering between Marian and the Grey Warden. Marian stared at him wide-eyed, struggling to comprehend such a turn of events. The templar scowled, not hiding his ire.

"I will not let you interfere with our duty before the Maker, Warden", he spat. "The Chantry cannot tolerate apostates!"

Duncan came closer, looking the templar in the eye. There was an unmistakable warning behind his veneer of calm, and the templar took a step back almost involuntarily.

"This woman is an apostate no longer. She is a recruit for the Order of the Grey".

"The Right of Conscription is law", Ser Bryant chimed in.

The templar shifted his gaze from Bryant to Marian and clenched the hilt of his sword. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to strike her, but then he lowered his blade and sheathed it.

"So be it. But the Knight-Commander will hear of this."

"Of course", Duncan complied. "Please give Greagoir my regards."

The templar pursed his lips at the familiarity in his tone, but said nothing. Instead, he addressed Ser Bryant. "The apostate's mother needs to be interrogated."

"I will see to it", Bryant agreed and, noticing the other templar preparing to argue, added: "With due respect, I command the templars here."

Marian half-expected the templar to stomp his feet in frustration, but the man just jerked his head in semblance of a nod, and motioned to his men to move. Marian's eyes shifted to Mother, who was still being held by the Elder. She forced herself to look away immediately as soon as she caught Mother's desperate gaze. They had to keep up the ruse lest the other templars suspect anything.

Duncan thanked Ser Bryant with a nod, then turned to Marian.

"Thank you", she forced herself to say, suddenly realising she was trembling. "I am Marian Hawke."

"And I'm Duncan, as you heard. I am pleased to meet you, Marian", the Warden replied, a smile flickering on his weary face. "And I am sorry."

She only nodded, trying to keep her expression neutral as Ser Bryant helped Mother to her feet and started to lead her away. Miriam turned around, her eyes full of compassion. Marian nodded again, feeling numb. "What happens now?" she asked Duncan.

"We leave for Ostagar", he replied. "Let's go. We have a long way ahead of us."

Marian followed him towards the road without objections.

"You're not asking me to wait and let you say goodbye", Duncan observed.

"Would you?"

"No, I'm afraid I wouldn't."

"It's not true, the things I said", Marian burst out. "I don't hate my Mother. She doesn't despise my magic, she didn't want this to happen…" Words were suddenly escaping her like a flood. She felt like she had to say it, at least to him, or to herself. The image of her Mother shuddering with every sob, the desperation in her eyes was so vivid in Marian's mind she feared she would never be able to stop thinking about it.

"I understand", Duncan said. "You wanted to protect her. It was a brave thing to do, good and noble."

Marian nodded, fiercely wiping a treacherous tear that escaped her eye.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, desperate to talk about something else, to divert her thoughts from wishing for one last hug from Mother. "Why did you conscript me?"

"We are pressed for recruits", Duncan replied. "And a mage is always a welcome addition. I have just been to the Kinloch Hold, trying to persuade the First Enchanter to lend more mages to the battle."

"And?"

Duncan shook his head. "They are dealing with a crisis of their own at the moment. I was told two blood mages escaped just prior to my arrival there."

"What do Grey Wardens… think of blood magic?" Marian asked tentatively.

"It is the Wardens' sacred duty to protect the world from darkspawn", he said grimly. "_In war, victory._ By any means. Does that answer your question?"

"I suppose it does."

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious."

"I see."

She chewed on her lip, then finally brought herself to ask: "My sister ran to hide in the Wilds. Can we go there?"

Duncan looked at her, and she could see pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Marian. We don't have time."

"It's on the way. I won't be long", she pleaded. "You saw how I had to part with my Mother. Allow me at least this. Just a few minutes to explain myself and say goodbye."

The Warden looked at the ground, his brow furrowed. He reached into his bag, and took out a scroll. "Show the place on the map. If it truly won't divert us from our path, we will go."

Father found the cave years ago, and they used it since as a hiding place in case of emergency. Marian checked on it regularly, ensuring there was always sufficient amount of blankets, dried rations and water inside. They did have to get off the main road, but they were actually cutting short through the Wilds, so Duncan didn't say anything.

"Bethany?" Marian called, as they neared the cave. "It's me!"

She heard rustling from the inside, and then Bethany's voice calling her name joyfully.

"Thank the Maker, Marian, I was so worried…" The girl appeared from the cave, smiling from ear to ear, and stopped abruptly when she noticed Duncan a step behind Marian. "What's going on?"

"Bethany, this is Duncan. He is Ferelden's Grey Warden Commander."

"How do you do", Bethany said politely, then looked back at Marian in utter confusion.

She opened her mouth, but failed to speak, knowing it would break her sister's heart. She just had to spit it out, but Bethany was looking at her with those big eyes, and Marian was starting to regret coming here.

"Your sister was captured by the templars", Duncan stepped in. "They were going to kill her. I used my right as a Grey Warden to instead recruit her in our ranks. We are on our way to Ostagar, where we will join the army and the rest of the Order for the battle."

"But… but you will come back after the battle, won't you?" Bethany asked in a weak voice, but she knew the answer already. They heard enough stories about the Wardens.

"No", Duncan replied, but his voice was kind. "Being a Warden is not the same as being a soldier. The Wardens leave their lives behind to fulfil their duty."

"Oh no", Bethany moaned. "Oh, Marian."

Marian smiled ruefully. "Come here, Beth", she whispered, reaching out her arms. Her little sister hurried towards her and dived into her embrace. Marian tugged her close, burying her fingers in Bethany's thick hair.

"I'm so sorry, Sister. It's my fault…"

"Shh, little one, don't be silly. It's not your fault."

Bethany suddenly stiffened in Marian's arms. "Mother?.."

"Mother is fine. She will come for you once the templars leave, as always."

"Marian", Duncan called, a hint of apology in his low voice.

She stepped back, breaking their hug, and took Bethany's hands in hers. "I have to go."

"Already? But…" Bethany bit her lip. Marian could see she was holding her tears back, just barely, but she was, for Marian's sake. "I understand", Bethany nodded, squeezing her sister's hands. Then something dawned on her face. "Just a moment!" she said and ran back to the cave.

In a minute, she was back, carrying their Father's staff.

"He'd want you to have it", she said with a sad smile, carefully putting it into Marian's hands.

Marian felt her eyes tingle, and cursed silently. She will not cry; she must not. For Bethany's sake.

"Take care, Sis", she said. "You all take care, alright?"

"Of course", Bethany replied, pulling her into another hug. "Please be careful. And say hello to Carver from me."

"Well, at least there'll be someone to keep his sorry ass out of trouble now."

They broke apart, and Marian's eyes flickered to Duncan. "I don't know if we'll ever see each other again", she whispered.

"We will", Bethany cut her off, her tone serious. "You promise me that we will, Big Sister."

Marian didn't say anything, but her hand found Bethany's and she intertwined their pinkies, just how they did in childhood when they made silly promises to each other. Then she left, trailing after Duncan, clutching the Staff of the mysterious Parthalan, and forced herself to only look forward.


End file.
